


The Dance

by Star_Crab



Series: Mornings of Gold [2]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Crab/pseuds/Star_Crab





	The Dance

“I’ve always been the hunter, nothing on my team. . .”  
Become the Beast, Karliene

The ball was in full swing when Sarah had arrived with her family, the trumpets sounding as their family name was announced to an uncaring crowd that were too busy dancing and drinking. Queen Titania and King Oberon were sitting on their thrones drinking daintily from the flower shaped cup giggling at something through the sweetened milk. Along one of the tables was a table filled with food; plates of fresh fruits and cheeses and meats and pastries. Adjacent to it was a fountain that spouted a sprinkling drink and people would hold their cups beneath the liquid to fill their drinks with a joyous cheer to their playfellows. Above them were dancing lights, most likely pixies who had come to a deal with the king and queen for the services. Satyrs were laughing gaily as they drank wine with the centaurs who were lying on their backs as naiads braided flowers into their tails and hair. The musicians were on elevated platforms as they played their instruments for the people who danced at the center of the room. 

Sarah soon found herself separated and lost within mere moments after their arrival. Funny, she was to stay her chaperone who seems to have vanished as well. She hummed as she made her way to the table of food ready to try one of the orange-jammed pastries she had seen from the steps. The young fae danced her way along the outskirts of the mass of people swaying to the music, her feet moving quickly to the beat of the ballad that was playing. She can see the pastry waiting on a fine piece of glass until a dancer grabs her hand and brings her into the next dance. 

Her partner is tall with long dark hair and a dragon mask that had horns extended and curling above his head. She can only see his moss green eyes and the points of his ears. An elf. He bows and she curtsies and the dance truly starts. Surely the pastry can wait a song or two. 

The sylph finds herself laughing as they danced together and also sees that elves can have a sense of humor outside of their stoic morals and rules. They dance together for another three songs, much to the dismay of others wanting to dance with him. One of the songs demanded an exchange of partners, but the elf wouldn’t let go of Sarah’s hand choosing to dance solely with her. Though she would look away at times trying to sneak a glance at the table. They clap at the end of the song, Sarah curtsies once more and thanks him before moving again to the table of food. 

The pastry is still sitting untouched and she feels giddy, like a youngling who first learns of their abilities. A new song starts and before the elf can reach her, what looks to be a dryad catches his arm and turns him into the gathering circle. The dryad looks back at Sarah and winks gesturing for her to hurry. She gives the dryad a relieving smile and moves quickly to the table, finally grabbing the orange-jammed pastry. The jam smears across her lips and the tip of her nose as she takes a bite. 

Sarah grabs a napkin and spits the bite back out with a grimace. She hated orange jam and she thought it had been peach. To rinse out the taste she eats some of the blackberries drizzled with cream and honey and, to her joy, peach slices. She hardly notices that the dryad had come to stand next to her until the fair creature had cleared her throat scaring Sarah. The two giggled afterward as the dryad profusely apologized and offered another peach slice as recompense. 

The two talk and giggle with each other, even dance at some points not caring about the stares they were receiving. The dryad’s name is Abelia and she hails from the Eastern Forest where the Elves of the Northern Mountains make their home. They had also decided to remain friends and to write each other until the could meet again. The girls ignore as more family and lords and ladies were announced, moving to the balcony to escape most of the noise. The elf they had danced with joins them, introducing himself as Conatus. Giggling and talking ensued between the three friends until women, humanoid and creature alike, began to gasp and push their way inside to see had arrived. Sarah was pushed into Abelia’s arms as a naja slithers hurriedly pass the to girls with a hiss. 

Inside at the top of the stairs stood a lord as the herald finished his arrival announcement. He wore black trousers and a black waistcoat that was bejeweled with what looked to be diamonds over a peach colored bastian linen shirt. His mask was that of a white barn owl with a dark curved beak, much like the one she had at home in the barn, and he seemed to be staring right at Sarah and she felt as if she could not breathe. The lord’s hair was colored with streaks of light colored orange black, swaying softly as he walks down the steps towards the cluster of women cooing over him. Towards Sarah. 

“You two match,” Abelia whispers to the fae. “How peculiar is that?” 

It is true that they match. His linen shirt the same color as her gown : peach with black filaments that made the shape of feathers across her bodice. She had chosen the gown because it matched her fox mask that she had made for this occasion. No longer did she feel like a predator, but the prey of an owl who has found its victim. Was this planned, or merely coincidence? She hopes it is the latter. 

“How peculiar indeed,” Conatus agrees. “Do you know him, Sarah?” 

She shakes her head, the ribbons of her mask slapping against her cheeks. “No, I don’t, but he seems familiar. Like in a dream.” 

Conatus clears his throat. “Well, he seems to know you, seeing as how he is wandering in our direction.” 

But Sarah is frozen, unable to move her feet as the lord’s nearness makes her weak in the knees. Her breath is frozen as he stops in front of her, bows and extends his hand. She feels Abelia push her forward as the dryad and the elf stare at the lord. Sarah places her hands in his and the music starts again as she is gently drawn into his embrace; his hand pressing on the bottom of her ribs and her own resting atop his shoulder. 

The guests all stare as the couples dance together, even the King and Queen who glean that there is more at hand than what they had all just witnessed. Many of the other lords and ladies gape in surprise at the lord’s chosen dance partner when normally he would not dance unless forced. 

Sarah’s father is not looking with amusement, but with an expression that his wife has only seen when a youngling promised to steal his only daughter from him. He knows where the self-proclaimed king hails from and his wretched bloodline. Now the Sidhe has his hands on his daughter. The flower shaped glass cracks in his tight grasp as he watches them dance and as other couples join in after they had finished staring. One of the couples was the dryad and the elf his daughter had danced with earlier that night. He jumps slightly as his wife places a delicate hand on his atm and places and kiss on his cheek. 

“It is just one night, my love,” she says. “They will never see each other again and don’t know the other’s face.”  


Closer now as they danced, Sarah can see that his eyes are two different colors behind his mask. He has not spoken, but when he breathes she can smell him : an earthy musk mixed with ale. A curious aroma, but it suits him. Her skirts swirl around their legs as he spins her to the music and slightly dips her back before spinning her the opposite direction. She does not notice how the song has ended and another had begun, to enraptured by the stranger that seems to know her. Their feet move faster adapting to the new symphony, but she missteps and her heels lands on his toes. 

She looks up in concern, but he just chuckles and continues dancing. His laugh makes her smile as it rumbles through his chest. They dance for another two songs, the second causing her to blush as the lord lowers his head for the beak of his owl kisses the nose of her fox before continuing on leading her through the steps. They had also grew closer in proximity, her head coming to rest on his shoulder and his arm tightens around her waist, his fingers curling more intimately around her hand.


End file.
